


Win Or Bust In Death Or Glory

by GabrielTunichtgut



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fantasy, Heavy Character Development, Multi, Plot, Profound, Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabrielTunichtgut/pseuds/GabrielTunichtgut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is (going to be) the whole story of Griffith Amell, based on the the game storyline. I changed quite some things and added a lot, but it's far from being AU. Spoilers for the whole game are included, some passages more elaborate than others. It is very focused on a proper character development (not only of the main character) that is much more elaborate than in the game itself, expecially relationship-wise and deals a lot with the conflict of magic and the balancing act between staying sane and falling apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Age, Bioware and EA do. No money is being made with this piece of fanfiction.
> 
> Dialogue is taken from the game but mostly from NPCs only and often more or less altered. When you write down a playthrough it's just inevitable to use some of the given lines.

**Prologue**

"Griffith, stop! It's enough!"

I stopped spell casting immediately at the voice that was rattling and so full of pain. Damn, that the affliction hex and the life drain would have such a grave impact on Jowan, shocked me. Out of nowhere it felt as if something was piecing through my stomach. But all I could do was look at him. He panted, trying to support himself with his hands on his knees and fell down onto the dirty and dusty stone floor with a loud thud. He didn't stand up, he was lying there on the floor motionless. I was ignoring my own pain; instead, I immediately cast a healing spell on him and kneeled down, raising his torso.

"Can you hear me?" My heart was pounding and my ears ringing. I was feeling faint. Where did this feeling come from? I mustn't pass out myself, not when I wasn't sure that Jowan was alright. I pulled myself together and slapped his cheeks a few times before he opened his eyes eventually and clutched at my robes. A gasp escaped my throat when I felt my skin burning. My eyes wandered from Jowan's face towards his clinging hand that had left a stain of blood on the cloth. No, this wasn't his blood, it was mine, soaking through my robes. But he hadn't even touched me during the fight! So how- ?

"Jowan…" My voice started to tremble. "Blood Magic is a double-edged sword. You should have told me. It's no wonder that a thing like this happened to you. This could have killed you! _I_ could have killed you! And you could possibly have killed me, too!"

"Sorry, luv." he huffed, smiling a wretched smile at me. I let out a sigh and sucked in a deep breath. His use of Blood Magic worried me, especially the notion that he had used it on me although I did realize that Jowan would have most likely died if he hadn't taken some of my health. Nonetheless, I could neither deny nor hide that I was clearly wrought-up.

"You are sorry? Sorry?!" I snarled. "How can you be so careless, huh? You know that I know how to get lyrium for our training sessions… I am stealing it, in case you haven't figured it out yet. There is no need to use your life energy in order to refill your mana. What we are doing here even without all that Blood Magic stuff is already forbidden, so don't bring us in more danger than we are already in! We are suspicious enough with disappearing from time to time and increasing our knowledge of certain types of magic further even though we are only apprentices!"

"I bloody damn know! That's why! We haven't been harrowed yet, so this means that they are planning something… You know what I mean!" he yelled.

That was true. I suspected that they had thought about making us Tranquils for a long time now. For almost a whole decade I myself had lived with the horror from becoming such a creature without emotions and magical powers that was resistant to the influence of demons in turn. I had early come to that conclusion since I had always wondered why Jowan and I hadn't been harrowed yet. We were still not full mages of the Circle. I was already in my early thirties, mind you! Jowan was only a few years younger than me himself. We both were the oldest apprentices in the tower. We had been inseparable since the day we had first met in here when we had only been little children, recently seized from our homes.

I believed that the reason for all this waiting and insecurity about what to do with us. It had been the result our love for magic that affected the bodily functions and minds of others and thus posed a greater threat than others even thought. They could only guess what hostile spells we were capable of, regarding the schools of Spirit and Entropy Magic. They only knew of a few, lesser ones. I personally had never been much into Primal Magic that was the kind of magic that was most prevalent and accepted in my opinion. I in contrary preferred altering other beings – for the good as much as for the bad: drain and restoration, strengthening and weakening. Therefore I hardly put an effort in controlling elements. I found it less of a challenge or let's say: less interesting. I was the master of only very few elemental spells, some that were made of stone to be more precise. Unfortunate for Jowan and me, the drain, weakening and cutting down mobility sort of magic that we loved so much was a delicate matter since it was often confused with Blood Magic and even more so because especially Spirit and Entropy Magic were more subtle and far more difficult to notice than Primal Magic regarding the source of the caster – elements were distinctly more visible. So, the more you were into that sort of magic, which Jowan and I had been into from a rather young age, the more suspicious you became here. The fact that Jowan was truly using Blood Magic, didn't help either. We had become more cautious the longer our apprenticeship had lasted, so we just pretended that studying in the library was our main occupation by this time. I always practised unnoticed with Jowan. I hurt him with my spells and I let him hurt me with his. Our spells needed practice on living human beings. This was a high price to pay in regard of our health, in spite of the fact that we could heal each other, but what should we have done otherwise? We both wanted to become better even though that meant acting against the rules. They didn't let us out of this large tower, didn't let us learn all we wanted in this 'home' that had been forced upon us.

The templars had always been watching us mages in general like hungry hawks waiting for the right moment to swoop down on us. The good thing was that the templars weren't lurking behind every corner, just behind every second or third; thus, our practicing stayed a secret. In case that it was needed, we knew how to use our magic to keep them away from the entrance to this large room that was behind a secret passage in the basement, not far from that first door into the Repository where nobody came through except for those who were well-informed. When we had first entered this room that we had stumbled upon by accident, we had crashed against the wall in wanton need and fell into the wall that had been opening behind Jowan's back. Of course we were curious about what was to discover. It was a welcome change that was rare here. We had found some skeletons in cells; we were in an old prison that had been long since forgotten. The sounds were magically deflected from down here towards the hallway, we had tested it. It was safe here. It was our sanctuary.

"You think as well that they are going to make Tranquils out of us? Or even kill us?" I asked, biting my lips.

"Yes. We need to plan our escape. And for that, I figured we need Blood Magic. We have to try everything. The templars are no easy obstacle." I let out a disapproving grunt but shuddered only a second later as Jowan sent a healing wave through my body when he slid one hand underneath my robes along my leg and over the wound on my abdomen, closing it with the soft touch.

"So, what is your plan then? I am sure you have put plenty of contemplation into it, haven't you. At least I hope so. The measure of Blood Magic isn't to be taken lightly. What do you need it for other than removing obstacles in the way? You know that we could probably do so without."

"I will tell you in time. You've just got to trust me, please." He whispered and pushed me down on my back, placing a passionate kiss on my lips while he was moving between my legs, sliding the robes up to my chest, so that I was fully exposed to him.

I hated how easily I was to shut up when he did this.

I moaned into his mouth. "Jowan, you perfidious shrimp." I gasped, arching towards him. My arms found their way around his back and my legs around his hips.

"You love it." Oh, how he sounded smug and smiled like the little innocent he was not.

The dust was swirling around us, following our every motion until we were done giving ourselves to our longing for each other.

He fondled my short curly mahogany red hair with his hands. "Let's go take a bath and then sleep. For once I know what I am doing, believe in me, Griffith, please." he pleaded, looking at me with puppy eyes.

"I do." I murmured, giving in, but not completely honest and not nearly as sure as I should be about what to make out of Jowan's secrecy.

**Chapter 1**

"Get up, bender, and come with us! The Harrowing is waiting for you."

I was rudely awakened, someone shaking me. On one hand I was still tired, but on the other hand I could hardly describe how relieved I was when I heard the word 'Harrowing'. So I was eventually summoned to undergo this test. Escape wasn't necessary any more - if we were allowed to leave as full mages. Three months had passed since Jowan had told me that he had a plan. I still didn't know what plan. But… why had they only addressed me? What was about Jowan? Would he… not be harrowed? His arms were around my waist, holding onto me tightly. "Wh-what do they want?" he whispered sleepily into my neck. "I won't let them hurt you…" he continued the same feeble tone, but his crushing grip emphasized the actual meaning of the words and his determination only too well. I turned around smiled at him in my usual assuring and calm demeanour. Even though it might not be now, I was in cheerful spirits that he would be called very soon as well. I wanted to answer his question and I had already opened my mouth, when the templars who had come to fetch me, grabbed me firmly by the arms and dragged me up in such a rough manner that I let out a cough that cut off my words. Jowan let go eventually and much to my dismay because they had kicked him fiercely into the guts for trying to hold me back. "Don't start to cry if your bitch doesn't come back." they chuckled at him mockingly. I bit my lips at this insult that was even worse than 'bender'. It wasn't their business what was going on between Jowan and me.

"Hurry up! We don't have all night! Go and face your trial already!" they howled at me in a tone that couldn't be ruder. I grit my teeth. I didn't want to let them get away with treating Jowan – or me - like this! Nevertheless, we could not afford becoming even more of a target for the templars. I… I just had to swallow this. I put on my bloody robes and followed them. I was glad – and lucky – that my robes were of a darker red and the dried blood was only visible if one really paid close attention to it.

I was brought to the very top of the tower where the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander were waiting for me with a bunch of other templars. Cullen, probably the nicest templar in this tower, was amongst them, looking vividly distressed. Probably it was his first Harrowing to attend to. Judging by his expression, this test was horrendous, in his opinion at least.

Knight Commander Greagoir didn't hesitate to give me a lecture about the necessity of all this: "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm - the Fade – are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world. Know this, apprentice: if you fail, we templars will perform our duty. You will die." Buzzword. This was a blatant way of intimidating greenhorns.

The answer from Irving with what I had to do wasn't long in coming. "The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will. Resist and you may return." A wry smile flashed over my features. Just because you could resist to be possessed by a demon once, didn't mean that you could always resist – wanted always to resist - its offers. The Chantry along with the Circle were both naïve and cruel. They put you into a tower and feed to the demons with the expectation to resist but the hope that you fail if you asked the templars in order to get rid of one more dangerous mage so as not to take care of him any longer.

I nodded simply and stepped forward without further questions. I would not fail.

Oh, how I felt strange when I was drawn into the fade through the lyrium that I had touched.

I was conscious in the Fade for the first time. However, I wasn't surprised at all. How could I? I had seen this place many times in my dreams. Well, granted, not quite like… this, but similar at least. I found it foggier than usual; everything was so blurry. This realm felt more unreal than when I had been actually dreaming. Masses of beige rocks, blue lyrium veins, grey statues, strange plants… simply surreal.

Wisps that I had only known from books before were crossing my path, but it was easy to take them out. Honestly, this was the feared Fade? A voice that was sounding quite upset and annoyed, though, suddenly made me flinch: "Someone else thrown to the wolves. As fresh and unprepared as ever. It isn't right that they do this, the templars. Not to you, me, anyone."

I looked down to my feet and saw that a mouse was talking to me. I raised my eyebrows at its remark – not so much the fact that the mouse could speak; this was the Fade. I was only partly unprepared. I didn't know what kind of demon exactly I had to face _here_ but why did this being assume that I didn't know of the dangers?

"I will succeed; I've had enough preparation in all those years I had to wait. I am no goosling any more. But I agree, this isn't right at all. You haven't come back, have you?" I was talking to a mouse… asking it for its story. The critter transformed into a human only seconds after before he answered. Interesting.

"No… But still… You can call me… well, Mouse. Look at me, look at what can happen. The templars kill you if it takes too long, you see. They figure, you failed, and they don't want something getting out. That's what they did to me, I think. I have no body to reclaim. And you don't have much time before you end up the same."

"Really? I'm sorry…" I truly pitied the guy and all the apprentices that were sent to the Harrowing at a very young age even though I found it very late in my case. This notion of what the templars had done to him and other apprentices made me angry. This only confirmed everything I had guessed and it increased my hate of the Chantry. I strongly believed that they didn't let the very young ones go through this test because they thought of them being ready for it. No, by no means, no. I had heard often enough that particularly young apprentices didn't come back every now and then. It might sound vain but I knew that I was one of the mages who could have long since passed the Harrowing with success. I was confident in my abilities.

"Don't waste time with that talk. You don't want to end up like… this. Go, face the demon, and resist, if you can. That's your way out. Or your opponent's, if the templars wouldn't kill you. A test for you, a tease for the creatures or the Fade."

I nodded before I left the poor soul. There was no use in bothering myself further with him. It was indeed too late for him and it was my time that was running out.

"I will come with you if I may." Mouse proposed, shouting after me, and when I turned my head I saw him transformed back into the little critter. Of course I didn't mind. Why should I?

"Sure…" I uttered before I began to ask further questions while we were being on our way. As long as there was nothing that was worthy my attention in sight, there was no harm in talking.

"So, the templars simply killed you?"

"That is what happens to the physical bodies of apprentices who fail. They'd kill every mage if they could. All the templars see in magic is danger. And they don't just use the Harrowing. If you learn a little too much, they'll label you a blood mage and kill you on sight! True mages like you know that the power you hold is a gateway to greater things. A potential they can never hope to contain! It's not right that they control us. The templars and the Chantry and all of it, they're all paranoid. The lot of them. They have no right to treat true mages this way! You could stand up to them! If they gave you the chance. You don't want to lose yourself here. Being nothing would be easier than this."

Why did I get the feeling that this guy knew me a little too well? He said out loud what I had been only thinking so far. I shrugged it off as something that was probably a common thought amongst people who had to live in the Circle of Magi. I really thought it was. Jowan and I could hardly be the only ones who were thinking this.

After some time we passed a benevolent Spirit of Valour, out of whom I could wheedle a staff, and a Sloth Demon, who showed Mouse how to turn into a bear as a reward for answering three of his riddles correctly. He could make himself useful after all. To my great displeasure, I had to force Mouse into accepting the teaching. He was a coward, totally afraid of fighting and prone to hide away from fears – like a mouse. No wonder that he hadn't been able to complete the Harrowing in time. All mouth and no trousers. But all this disgust I felt for the wimp who was so reluctant to actually help even though he had wanted to come along was transformed into melancholy at the metaphor of the map because that map was what I knew of the world: 'I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land.' I had nothing but theory, stone walls and gaolers. The memories of my tender years back in Redcliffe had almost completely faded into the darkness. All was left was craving for freedom.

But right now I had to pull myself together.

The demon I came to face turned out to be a Rage Demon. Was this the irony of fate or was this demon the result of those sentiments that had been eating me up at the templars sickening behaviour and intentions? Despite the fact that it was obviously trying to frighten me with its appearance and words about how it would possess me, I didn't even cringe. What rather startled me was the fact that it spoke in such a familiar way with Mouse. He had helped the demon before. Yet, he did fight with me and the demon was easy prey for us, far too easy for my taste. I turned my eyes towards Mouse who changed back into his human form. With a wrinkled brow and a look that demanded explanation, I examined him.  
"You did it. You actually did it! When you came, I hoped that maybe you might be able to… but I never really thought any of you were worthy." I noticed that those words had a possible double entendre. Was he implying that I might be able to… provide a nice victim for possession? Well, what else would he say? How would he explain himself?

"The ones you offered the demon before me. Who were they?" I asked with a self-complacent smirk.

"What?" Oh, he was getting nervous. "They were not as promising as you. It was a long time ago. I… I don't remember their names. I don't even remember my own name. It's the Fade, and the templars killing me, like they tried with you."

Caught, my little fiend.

"I see… you still ride about my hate for templars… Do you want to help me defeat them, with my body?" A mad laugh of mine echoed through the atmosphere.

"Begone, demon, or I might need to kill you as well. I am no little whippersnapper like you might be used to."

"What? What are you- Ah, a smart one, I see… Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… pride. But you seem to be able to handle yourself quite well in every regard. Congratulation. Until we meet again, promising one."

Thus my trial ended, the pictures before my eyes fading, the sounds becoming unclear.

Sometime a voice was trying to reach me.

"Are you alright? Say something, please…" it begged almost desperately.

"Jowan?" I opened my eyes and turned my head sideways to look into those blue eyes only a few inches away from mine. Jowan was kneeling in front of our bed with his hand on its rim and worry all over his face. So I was in the apprentice dorm.

"I'm glad you're all right. I've heard about apprentices who never come back from the Harrowings. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?"

A small smile formed on my face. He was curious as ever.

"Dangerous for those with a weak mind. Dangerous for those who are uncertain about their abilities and fear what is to come. Otherwise, there was nothing dangerous about it, really."

Yes, pride spoke of my words. The dangerous pride that the demon had spoken of himself. But without pride, I would accomplish nothing – and be easy prey for greedy demons.

"What exactly did you have to do?" This question didn't exactly take me by surprise.

"You know that I'm not supposed to tell you, don't you? And still, I will. You're my one and only and I don't care for the Circle and the Chantry's stupid way to control mages. I had to enter the Fade and if you aren't able to resist the demon that is waiting for you, the templars will kill you. End of story. It is as simple as that." Even though this wasn't the whole truth, it was enough to know to be prepared. I was confident in Jowan's abilities as well.

"Ah, I see. That… makes sense. And now you get to move to the nice mages' quarters upstairs. I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing." I let out an annoyed groan at his sulking tone.

"Stop whining. Your Harrowing will be soon as well." I tried to soothe him, maybe a bit harsher than intended. Why all this envy from his side? I was his friend and lover, not his foe!

"I do have to admit that this is strange…" I continued trying to get a hold on myself. "I don't like the fact that it hadn't been your turn as well last night, but this is no damn reason to act like this. It isn't my bloody fault. You still think they intend to make a Tranquil out of you, don't you? You know that I have suspected the same before I was harrowed. Nothing of that has become true, so don't worry too much. Please."

"But it could be different in my case! What if they find anything out and kill me?" he almost screeched, totally upset, yet showing it in a more wailing way whereas I became harsh and heartless when a certain limit was reached.

"I hope that none of this will happen. They haven't found out before. Why now?"

Jowan let out a huff and screwed up his nose.

"Well…" he trailed off. "There is no reason… actually."

His reaction made me suddenly doubt that there really was no reason for the templars to find out and execute him according to their rules. For what had he used Blood Magic already?

Jowan was beating around the bush somehow. He was hiding something from me. I had to see what I could get out of him.

"Actually? What have you done that they could take as a reason to kill you?"

Unfortunately, Jowan did not react on it, but rather cut me short.

"I will tell you, soon… But enough for now… Irving wants to see you. I suppose it has to do something with your passed Harrowing. I will be waiting for you."   
I, in response, pursed my lips, sighed and got up, fending off Jowan's embrace and attempted kiss.

"Oh, I forgot," I began hissing "… most of all, the Fade is a dangerous place for _secretive hypocrites_." He only shot me a bewildered glance and I stomped out of the dorm.

I felt hurt. What else was he hiding from me? A secret lover maybe?

On my way to Irving's study I didn't look at anyone. I was in no mood to talk or to accept congratulations. What did I care what they thought? I was finally a mage and still I felt desolate. Why wasn't I even eager for what Irving had to say? Maybe he would let me go! I was tired of sitting in the library most of the day, sparring with Jowan and drowning in love and pleasure with him. I wanted to use my knowledge and abilities instead of withering like a plant without rain… Without Jowan I wouldn't even have the soil that kept me alive. The last time I had seen a plant in nature, had been before I had been imprisoned here. I finally wanted to grow towards freedom. Nevertheless, the prospect of my possible leave did not shoo my sorrow away. I was becoming mad wasn't I?

"Jowan…" I whispered absently, letting out a loud sigh, and continued my way towards my destination.

When I entered Irving's Study, he was arguing with Greagoir. How could I have expected otherwise? While I was listening, I did all I could to get rid of my grim expression that lingered all over my body, distorting my face and stiffening my limbs.

The men were speaking of Ostagar, an old Tevinter keep, and how many Circle Mages had gone there for war already. How much I knew of history but how less I knew of current events… I certainly had notice of 'some' war going on but nothing more. Maybe I could go there as well? Even though leaving meant leaving Jowan behind. A decision had to be made right now, a decision that would lead the way to my further life. He could follow after his own Harrowing.

There was another man who I didn't know standing between Irving and Greagoir. Regarding the armour he was some kind of warrior. I tilted my head a little bit and Irving introduced us after Greagoir had left in a rather foul mood. This man was a Grey Warden! One of the legendary fighters against the darkspawn Blight! I bowed deeply, feeling honoured to stand before a real Grey Warden.

"You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar." Irving explained, looking quite amused of my childish display. I was staring at Duncan, my jaw slightly dropped in awe. My features lit up at an instant at his words and a smile was spreading on my whole face.

"I volunteer. I'm ready to fight. I want to do something with my skills. I want to use them."

Duncan nodded, apparently pleased at my statement. I was so excited that my nervousness showed clearly in my mimics and gesticulation. All sorrow had given way to anticipation.

Duncan rose to speak, explaining the whole situation to me and Irving: "With the darkspawn invading, we need all help we can get, especially from the Circle. The power you mages wield is an asset to any army. Your spells are very effective against large groups of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don't drive them back, we may see another Blight. We need more mages. There is no way I can leave without at least some more."

Just as I wanted to respond the First Enchanter spoke up, telling Duncan not to trouble me with war before he addressed me again.

"Now, now… let's not rush things, young man. The Harrowing is just behind you. You did exceptionally well. My faith in you was justified. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi." I bowed slightly, but couldn't hold back a comment about thinking of my phylactery as a leash, a bad one.

"I'm sorry – what is this phylactery?" the Grey Warden asked inquisitively.

"Blood is taken from all apprentices when they first come to the tower and is preserved in special vials." The First Enchanter spelled it out. Yes, my body had been cut open when I arrived here at the age of twelve. I had tried to fight them off and hence the knife had gone through all different parts of my skin. But at least they did have plenty of blood then. I averted my gaze from the two men. I felt nauseous. The day I had been taken from my family was when my health, both mental and physical had started to decrease. Sure, my magical power and knowledge had been growing steadily ever since as payback, but it was sapping. There was something important missing for me to be happy. My remedy was deteriorating as well, already in a state even worse than mine judging by his desperate behaviour, turning towards Blood Magic. Jowan had almost reached the end of the line, I was sure of it.

"So they can be hunted if they turn apostate." The Grey Warden rather stated than asked and I turned my gaze back at them.

The First Enchanter nodded silently and was presenting me with new robes, a staff and a ring with the insignia of the Circle, speaking a few words that he certainly told every newly harrowed mage. I wordlessly took those gifts that meant nothing to me. I wished he had granted me to leave the tower instead. Why didn't I deserve this? What was the difference now from being an apprentice or a full mage? Nothing. Well, maybe that I wasn't suspicious any more. But how did this help Jowan? The only thing I was allowed to do was doing what I wanted IN the tower after escorting the Grey Warden to his room.

But before I left, I posed one last question: "When will be Jowan's Harrowing?" I wanted to know, I _needed_ to know!

Irving was getting incredibly serious and stiff at that.

"I understand that you are worried about your companion's fate, but I have to demand that you stay out of what is to come for him."

I blinked doubtfully for a few times and signified the Grey Warden with a gesture to follow. I had to act as if nothing had changed, as if I was completely indifferent to what Irving had just said. As soon as Duncan was back in the Guest Room, everything happened blow upon blow. I began to run and ran straight into Jowan. We both landed on the floor. I was glad that no templar or mage were around. "We have to get away, NOW! Something bad _will_ happen to you!" I hissed agitatedly in a low voice that was rising with every word. I was panic-stricken and looked around like a trapped animal. I had to keep a clear head – and my voice down!

"Shhhh, luv! Yeah, I know. Come with me." he whispered anxiously, but rather contained in comparison to me.

Arriving in the Chapel of all rooms he introduced me to Lily, an initiate. She telling me that she was his lover, felt like a kick in the teeth. This wasn't real, was it? Was it?! Jowan squeezed my hand without the woman being able to see this and I knew at an instant that she was necessary for his plan. Yes, I trusted him. I still had a queasy feeling and yet I agreed to help, playing along without even questioning Jowan's methods. We needed to escape at all costs. This was my only chance to get out together with Jowan. Now or never. I got the fire rod after taking some hindrances like a signature from a senior enchanter that I needed for the document that granted me such a rod. Lily, Jowan and I went to the repository. Lily provided the password and I opened the first door. When I looked at her, I knew what Jowan needed Blood Magic for. He was controlling her. I had to admit that I was surprised at his abilities more and more. Finally we found the phylactery chamber at the very end of our little walk through the whole basement since the attempt with the rod hadn't worked on the actual phylactery room door. We had to fight knights' amours and a few spectres that weren't so strong that we couldn't handle them. In fact, they were the first real challenge we got aside from the demon I had fought in the Fade. We found Jowan's phylactery and destroyed it. Now all we needed was to get out. My phylactery was really gone but I didn't care. I'd rather die fleeing than not trying to get away at all. Jowan sent Lily to sleep and ran off together with Jowan.

Our enthusiasm only lasted so long until we returned to the ground storey.

"So what you said was true, Irving!" Greagoir and a few templars came rushing into the hall with the First Enchanter behind them. Now this was bad.

"And you…" he turned towards me, is voice growling menacingly. "We should have killed you instead of letting you undergo the Harrowing! Just because Irving put in a word for you!"

"I am disappointed by you." Irving muttered.

Jowan was the one who defended me: "Don't judge him! You don't care for the mages! You just bow to the Chantry's every whim! You can't blame us for what we are doing!"

"Jowan's right, you don't care for the apprentices!" I agreed.

"Enough! Kill them." Greagoir shouted, but just before anyone could do something Jowan stabbed his hand and cast a bloody spell that let them fall back onto the ground.

"I won't let you touch us!" he snarled and we started running - hand in hand. I was stumbling behind him since he was way faster than I was and when I reached the next doorway I was grabbed firmly by the upper arm. In all my surprise I stopped. It was the Grey Warden. "Hey, come on. Why are you waiting?!" Jowan yelled already meters before me and when he saw the reason for my stop he was about to cast another spell, but hesitated and decided not to do so. I was glad about that, he would have probably hit me. I looked at him and back at the Grey Warden, unsure what to do. After a few moments, I was certain that I had to follow Jowan. But those few moments of thought had been enough for the other's to get back up to their feet, so that I was now surrounded by templars and Irving. Jowan had fled. At least I could save him. So I'd never see the world again. It had been worth a try though. I did not defend myself. There was nothing to defend myself from. I affirmed that everything I had done was right in my eyes. I would not beg for my life like a desperate poltroon.

"Knight-Commander, if I may… I am not only looking for mages to join the King's army. I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like him to join the Warden ranks despite what he has done." Duncan tossed in, letting go of my arm. Of course the other men opposed this suggestion. I was all kinds of evil in their opinion.

"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need. I stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage."

"I accept." I stated firmly and without hesitation. After all, this was a way out as well. The only one left for me. I would not let this chance cease before my eyes.

"No! I refuse to let this go unpunished! I won't let this turn out to be a reward for him!" Greagoir roared indignantly.

"I did nothing wrong. This whole institution here is wrong. Not me, not Jowan and no other apostate or mage who simply wants to leave! I want to use my abilities for something. Many do." I answered as contained as possible, trying to hide away my fury.    However my voice was betraying me.

Duncan on the other hand was very calm: "Greagoir, mages are needed. This mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages and apostates, you know that. I take this mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for his actions." This was all that mattered. "Thank you, my lord." I said. I did not even listen to what the other two had to say. I didn't care.

"Come then now, your new life awaits."

So my former life had really ended here.

I left without any further word, without turning back. My new life lay ahead of me.


	2. Chapter 2

Fortunately, we didn't stumble over Jowan's corpse on our way out of the tower, so he was safe. That took quite a load off my mind.

When the sunlight was greeting me outside, I was overwhelmed, flooded all over with its tangible warmth. This was life. This was what I had missed for so long. This was something the large windows in the tower had never been able to make up for. I eagerly breathed in the fresh air, leaning over the rim of the boat to touch the lake's murky water. "I-I can hardly believe it…" I murmured, tears threatening to fill my eyes. The water was cold yet pleasant when it was gliding over my hand.

"You didn't leave often, did you?" Duncan asked, smiling gently at me.

"N-never… not one single time since they had thrown me inside." I started to cry nonchalantly, looking across Lake Calenhad onto the land to see the mellow grass and the big trees, swaying in the wind. I could even see Redcliffe in the distance, my hometown. The chilly breeze that was floating through the air attempted to dry the teardrops but failed. These were the buried tears that I had never dared to cry. They spoke of joy and sadness both.

I looked over my shoulder at Duncan and realised that he was watching me with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Why did you choose me of all people to become a Grey Warden? Why have you stopped me fleeing with Jowan? I mean, I would have understood if you had left me at the templars' mercy because you though that what I did was wrong. But this? This honour? I don't understand…" I uttered snivelling like a child. I wasn't sure if I should thank or curse this man for what he had done.

"Jowan? So that was the young man's name? It's a pity that he fled without you. That's not what I expected. To explain it, I've hoped that I could take him along as well. See, a Grey Warden needs skill for one. But I am not just looking for skill alone since this is not enough. A Grey Warden is in need of character as well. You meet both of these requirements. Your phylactery had been sent away and they would have tried to hunt you down and I don't like seeing talent and a strong personality go to waste. You helped your friend because you knew that something bad would happen to him, no matter why. I noticed your strong agitation after that question that you had posed Irving before escorting me to my room. I don't know what exactly was to be done to him, but Irving's answer clearly spoke of unpleasantries, unpleasantries that aren't easy to bear. You didn't defend yourself against the charges that were made against you. You stood by your friend's side even though he had abandoned you already. You are a true friend and a brave man. I am sure you would have become a fine knight if you hadn't been blessed with magic. I am glad, you decided to come along."

"Thank you. It's an honour to join the ranks of the Grey Wardens." I withdrew my hand from the water and bowed slightly before wiping off my tears with my sleeve. Then something stung in my eyes. There was something on the sleeve. "Urgh." I huffed and tried to detect what was troubling my senses.

"You're welcome, Griffith." Duncan replied but raised an eyebrow at my sight when I looked up at him again as if I was searching for help.

"There is blood on your face." he noted almost randomly. Yes, this was blood - my blood from three months ago, macerated by my own tears. I haven't had the guts to let the robes be washed since I had been so sure than they would have suspected me of using blood magic which _I_ haven't done. And after receiving my new robes I haven't had the time to put them on, I had to take care of Jowan's safety that was far more important than such a trivial matter like dirty clothes.

"This was Jowan's doing." I began to explain. "He would have died if he hadn't used blood magic when we were practising, fighting against each other. That was when I found out he had learned how to use blood magic. That was when we decided to run off together. I should have known that it wouldn't end like in those novels for desperate noblewomen and bored mages of which we had a few in the library. We did not walk into the sunset together and lived happily ever after like Jowan had wished for us. I know he would have wished that. But I am beginning to realise that that wouldn't have made me happy. Giving up magic and all, doing something ordinary, or living as a regular criminal in the worst case. To become a Grey Warden seems much more worthwhile to me. It's something that gives your life a meaning, something that gives your gift of magic a meaning." I wanted to help making this world a better place.

"My thoughts exactly." he retorted grinning.

And yet I was already missing Jowan although Duncan was right about the fact that he had abandoned me. I pondered where he was and what would become of him, if I would see him again one day - or not.  
We travelled to Ostagar, the keep at the southern border of Ferelden in the Korcari Wilds, an area full of barbarian Chasind and feral creatures, where the darkspawn horde was expected to attack.

When Duncan and I were strolling along the fortress' tall walls towards the actual entrance of the war camp, a fair man in golden armour, which was shimmering in the sun, approached us. So this was the king? He was a pretty easy-going lad if you ask me. Yes, a lad, definitely younger than me and definitely thrilled at the prospect of the upcoming battle – downright like a child who was playing and not actually waging war. Moreover it seemed that everything was perfectly under control judging by the king's cheerful disposition and the news about the last won battles. And here I thought the situation was dire. Or was he just paying things down?

"This doesn't quite sound like a Blight to be honest." I offered my input, hoping to get an answer that would satisfy my need for clarification.

"I'm not even sure this even is one. There are plenty of darkspawn in the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an archdemon." The king replied with a sigh in the end.

"Disappointed, Your Majesty?" Duncan asked perfectly serious and he could have as much phrased it as a statement as the king certainly was disappointed.

His words gave it away, not so much his still optimistic tone.

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tale - A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do. I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!" he chirped as cheerfully as if nothing had happened, as if nothing could cloud his mood and strode back to the camp with his guards.

Such a short interlude and I was more than mildly confused. The king _hoped_ to see an archdemon? Did the man even know how dangerous such a creature was? It was a tainted god, a dragon! I didn't know how many of those darkspawn were expected in the battle, but they were most likely numerous enough to make the battle energy-sapping without even the need of an archdemon to pose a challenge. I shook my head in disbelief and then Duncan began to explain: "What the king said about the won battles is true, but there really is an archdemon behind this, if it appears or not. I can feel it. However, he won't listen to me. He isn't willing to wait for reinforcement from the Grey Wardens of Orlais even though we are only few in Ferelden. He believes our legend alone makes him invulnerable. He takes this all a bit too lightly. To that end, we should proceed with the Joining ritual without delay. The more Grey Wardens will be at our disposal tomorrow, the better. The battle is inevitable."

I was dismissed to explore the camp and should look for a guy named Alistair who was to be found in 'the old temple' which I could reach if I kept to the right after crossing the bridge and passed the mages' encampment. That Alistair would be needed for the preparations of the ritual. So I was informed that there was a ritual - not much else for now, not even at further questioning. So this was a big secret then? Fine. I could live with that. I would find out sooner or later anyway.

I crossed the bridge and entered the camp on the right side. I didn't really have the intent to prolong my time until I would be a member of the order. My patience that I had built up under huge strain in the tower had worn off under mysterious circumstances since I had left it. What could I do here anyhow in such a situation of war, almost directly before a battle? Lying in the sun? Certainly not. I was itching to get something done. You could rest in times of peace or when you were captured but not in war and freedom.

Nonetheless I was stopped right after I had passed the short gangway into the camp. Nobody in person stopped me, rather the sight of some templars did. They were guarding some mages who were obviously in the Fade in their state of trance. I clenched my fists and shot the templars a short frowning glance. That I was dressed in my apprentice robes didn't help to keep their attention away from me. They gaped at me, but fortunately decided to stay silent. They seemed to have as much brain as was necessary to realise that I was here at somebody's request. The gravel beneath my soles scrunched and sounded just like my teeth could have sounded if I had let my emotions take over. Instead I just smiled at them when I went by. Admittedly, it was an uneasy smile but it was better than nothing. I had to play nice if I wanted to stay out of trouble for once. I did want to do so in fact. I hadn't forgotten what I was here for.

"What do we have here?" I was addressed by an elderly mage who was leaning against a large tree, not many steps away from the templars as I was just about to pass her, too. Her head was tilted slightly towards the side, her eyes curious to no end. She had grey hair that was bound to a bun, her face was aged but still fine-looking.

"A fellow mage obviously, madam." I answered as if she had meant the question to be something else than rhetoric which it was not. I hoped her interest would vanish as soon as it had occurred.

"I heard the new Grey Warden recruit was from the Circle. I don't believe we've met, but I've certainly heard about you. You've been one of the oldest apprentices the Circle ever had. But rather than your talent - that has been stated plenty of time by Irving as well - you were also the problematic case who was always on the rocks of becoming a Mage or a Tranquil in discussions. My name is Wynne, and I congratulate you on your Harrowing. But why in the Maker's name are you still wearing your apprentice robes if I may ask? You can't be an apprentice any more, otherwise you wouldn't be here for sure!" Her interest in me was livelier than ever, thanks to those damnable robes that attracted the attention of all the mages and templars in camp. From now on I decided to deem it important what attire to wear to avoid such situations in the future. Unlucky me who had neither any spare clothes at hand right now nor a spell to make himself invisible.

"Well, this is a long story that I am not going to tell. But I can assure you, even if I still was an apprentice, my abilities would be no less. I am sure that you are pretty much aware of that fact." I stated firmly if polite while I was straightening myself once more, ready to move on.  
"Oh-ho! Irving said as much about you – remarkable self-confidence. So, a Grey Warden… fighting alongside the king. Not too shabby for someone out of apprenticeship."

Her tone was kind of inscrutable, yet it was easily to be read the wrong way: it tended to much to the scornful side in my opinion, so I warned her, my patience hanging by a thread: "I am not here to be mocked by another mage, I'm afraid. I am confident in my skills and this is enough." I glared at her to emphasise my point.

"Good, you'll need them when you face the darkspawn. Mages have always been pivotal in the fight against the darkspawn. Perhaps you'll be the one to turn the tide this time." She was suddenly sounding a lot more encouraging and considerate than before.

"I wonder… how much do you know of the connection between darkspawn and the Fade?" she asked. I figured she asked me this because I was a mage, so someone who was pretty familiar with the Fade and its connections to our magical force.

"A lot… Look at my age and tell me you don't know what I have done in all the years of apprenticeship. I hardly only studied magic. The darkspawn don't hail from the fade any longer. According to the Chantry the Black City was once the seat of the Maker until the mages from the Tevinter Imperium crudely intruded it with the use of Blood Magic and tainted it with their sin. That taint transformed those men, turning them into twisted reflections of their own hearts. And the Maker cast them back to the earth, where they became the first darkspawn. I am not quite sure if I can believe this, however. The Chantry says many things that I am not willing to believe."

She nodded, content about my knowledge. "It may be an allegory, meant to teach us that our own evil causes human suffering. Or it may be true."

"I don't really care. It doesn't mean anything other to me than knowledge!" I almost barked at her and got a bemused look from her in return. Evil! Evil! Everything was about Good and Evil with those people!

"Occasionally it's wise to contemplate one's actions. Such allegories can help with that." she added, scrutinising me carefully. I didn't flinch from her gaze.

"I don't care!" I yelled and left it with that, turning on my heel and almost running off. I was sick of her patronising talk. Although Wynne was certainly kind and probably a wise woman, too, I wanted nothing more than leave everything that reminded me of the Cirle of Magi or the Chantry behind. Going to see Alistair was certainly a good start. I hated the fact that both the Circle as well as the Chantry seemed to be present everywhere around me.

I took a few deep breaths and lowered my pace. I had given in to my hatred and it wouldn't do me any good to show up in such a foul mood before another Grey Warden. They were my future family, my allies.

Undeniably I did find a young man in his mid to late twenties in the old temple, a muscular figure in splint armour. Was this… Alistair? His dashing face that was pretty much covered with a five o'clock shadow looked strangely familiar, but I couldn't say where I had seen his face before. His tousled sand blond hair made him look like a rascal and a small smile appeared on my lips.

The man was arguing with a mage. I have seen him before in the tower for a few times. He was one of the Circle's enchanters. I kept some distance and waited until the mage left furiously before I walked up to the man since I had no desire to take part in that fight. I've had my fair share of arguing lately and it wouldn't do me any good to bluster into my wrath against anyone even more.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." he greeted me in with an alarmingly alluring smile that made my jaw drop and me blink in amazement. I would probably have expected a lot, but not this.

"Sorry, what?" the words left my mouth automatically.

"Oh, nothing. Just trying to find a bright side of all this." was the dry and curt answer. I… see…

"Wait, we haven't met yet, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" he continued, sounding as if he wouldn't be pleased if I told him I was. The strange expression that was beginning to show on his face when he examined my robes revealed that he knew my answer by now. Great. Now I was puzzled and insecure because of the man's most disturbing behaviour and his possible dislike for mages. But what choice did I have else than to talk to him? I had been given an order by someone who had ended my old life and given me a new, better one. At least I hoped so. There was no time to doubt this now, maybe I was the one who was just overreacting here and interpreting too much in something with too less impact on the big picture.

"And what if I told you I was a mage? Because, in fact, I am one." I couldn't help but scowl at him.

"And here I thought I'd been yelled at by every mage in camp. You know, they don't exactly seem to like me – you included judging by your endearing facial expression." Was it just me or was this guy quite a buffoon – a sarcastic and mocking one? I didn't know they had such people as Grey Wardens. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and tilted my head sideways, examining him very closely with narrowed eyes. I tried to detect what was behind the façade but I wasn't able to figure it out. This was not to my liking.

"Wait, I DO know who you are. You're Duncan's new recruit, from the Circle of Magi. I should have recognized you right away. I apologize." He wasn't the slightest bit unsettled by my assessing reactions. I had to admit that his performance made an extraordinary dent on me, not sure whether to like him or hate him for acting as he was.

"And you must be Alistair." I stated to make him believe that I was interested in him as a person. Well, I was, but my annoyance over his strange glibness was taking over my better judgement. "If you have a problem with my magic, then say so now." I added with indications of frustration in my voice.

"No problem. It's just my background makes mages nervous. And nervous mages make me nervous. I don't want to be a toad; I like the way I am. Did Duncan mention me? Nothing bad, I hope. As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining." This wasn't that unexpected but it made it necessary for me to take a brace, especially with this hint of an ominous background that makes mages nervous.

"Sure, but one other thing: That argument I saw… what was it about? Had it something to do with… your background… or mine?" I simply had to satisfy my curiosity on this matter as it could be vital for me as a mage and my further interaction with him. I hated to be left in the dark.

"With the mage? The Circle is here at the king's request. You certainly know this already. The Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just _love_ letting mages know how unwelcome they are. Which puts me in a bit of an awkward position. I was once a templar."

He stopped talking and raised an eyebrow at my reaction because it was… intense – all signs of disgust were displaying themselves on my face – in worst case all at once. I so loved templars… I really did… I had a hard time not telling him how much I _loved_ to let him know how unwelcome templars were in my vicinity. I had overheard the 'once'-part of his elaboration.

"You enjoy harassing mages, don't you?" I asked snappily. I could feel my blood pressure rise and I hardly felt the need any more to keep quiet for peace's sake – not in this case. Couldn't the Chantry leave me the heck alone?!

"No! Hey, don't get me wrong!" Now our little templar was getting nervous, alarmed to no end. "It's not the mages' fault that they were born with their magical abilities. One should treat those people no differently than others, but keeping control over them is necessary because their abnormal abilities are dangerous and they are prone to ally with demons." he stated calmly but with a slight tremble to his voice. His words struck in my craw so that I cringe and took a few steps back from him.

"I should have known that you'd say that!" My voice was rising dangerously high. "Thanks for telling me that I am an abnormality of mankind and that I am a universal danger that could turn on you just for fun and just anytime because I felt the need to call a demon for my infinite thirst for power. You know what? I once met a mage in the Chapel of the tower where I went against my actual intent. I heard a female voice saying a prayer. Why did I decide to look who that person was? It's ridiculously simple. The voice came from no templar and Chantry priests and sisters usually weren't in the Chapel at this time of the night, so I figured it had to be a mage. What I found, disgusted me, disgusted me more than anything else I've ever experienced. She whined how she thought of her magical abilities as a curse. Her words are still clearly on my mind: 'Magic causes such misery. It's dangerous and vile and wicked. The Chantry must protect the world from us. Being born with something so terrible must be a punishment. I wish, I could get rid of it.' The sound of her voice was so genuinely honest that I in return was about to puke at those blinded words. Get rid of it! Get rid of it for what?! Just to be allowed to leave our prison and bow to the Chantry's paranoia? We could do so much more if we weren't under such a strict surveillance! We would not be as desperate and try to escape with blood magic! Magic is powerful and effective against all sorts of enemies! Why does everyone assume that it's used against them? Do only mages cause misery?! Huh?! Do you really believe this?! Nobody has the damn right to rule over a mage more than to rule over any other person! I am sick for being the scapegoat for something I haven't done! We mages are worth as much as anyone else! And most of us are stuck in this tower, most of us are pent-up like cattle, and therefore there isn't much we can do in that state. Many of us suffer from being snatched away from their former lives – as children, dammit! Nobody has ever asked us what we want! And then they expect from us that we accept _their_ decisions because it's 'for our best'! I am sure the templars would love to eradicate us. If you're here to keep an eye on me as a templar does on a mage, then begone! I do not wish to continue being exposed to what I had in the tower. I followed Duncan to get rid of this unnecessary and bothersome surveillance!" I caterwauled passionately and stomped off. I should have known that they would always send someone to keep an eye on an oh-so-dangerous mage!

"I - I'm sorry! That's – that's not what I meant! Really! I mean… not abnormal… uhm… unusual is a better word maybe. It's – it's not my opinion anyway! That's what the Chantry taught me! I never had the opportunity to hear a mage's opinion on it!" he yelled after me with a desperate nuance to his voice. I turned back with a face that was distorted with rage. He scratched his head and looked like someone who had drawn in his horns. Should his words deflect my anger? Strangely enough they did to a certain degree. I took a few steps up to him until I stood only a few inches away.

"Is that so?" I asked inquisitively and stared him down with a furrowed brow. I was lucky that I was the taller one of us both even though Alistair was clearly the bigger one. The intimidating seemed to work and it gave me some strange satisfaction to be in charge.  
"As I said, I was trained as a templar before Duncan recruited me about six months ago. The Chantry raised me and becoming a templar was a decision made for me a long time ago. I had no say in this matter. I also hadn't been asked what I want. Duncan saw I wasn't happy, and figured my training against mages could double for fighting darkspawn. Now, here I stand a proud Grey Warden. The grand cleric wouldn't have let me go if Duncan never forced the issue. I'll be always grateful to him."

This confession surprised me. His story didn't seem so much different from mine after all and there was something like pity welling up in me, creating an emotional bond that shouldn't have been there. I knew only too well what such a life in oppression was like and I didn't know that being brought up in the Chantry was similar to what mages had to endure.

"You didn't want to join the Chantry at all?" I asked in a much kinder tone to assure myself once again in case I had just dreamed it, resulting from some kind of wishful thinking.

"It just… wasn't for me. I believe in the Maker well enough, but I never wanted to devote my life to the Chantry. And I did not want to hunt down mages. Is this clear for you know? I am not here in the name of the Chantry. I am solely a Grey Warden now and as that, I will accompany you – as a comrade in arms, not as an enemy." he confirmed and smiled at me apologetically.

"Very well. I can live with that… I think." I answered, still not entirely sure how to feel. I was the one who felt bad now for yelling at him. Also, I was somewhat smitten with the peculiar charm that surrounded him, more than I wanted to admit. For a templar, he appeared to be a decent guy. Having him as a companion might turn out to be not as bad as expected.

"Soooo, we have to do lot's of preparation, I take it… Could you be more elaborate, please?" I began, trying to get back to our actual task.

"Duncan will tell you in time. We can go right away and fetch the other recruits, then it will be sooner rather than later. The sooner we are finished with the whole Joining, the better." He suggested and stretched his legs a little, ready to get going.

"Yes… that's right. Let's go then."

The other two recruits besides me were Daveth and Jory. The former was a rogue, previously a thief and told us that we would be sent into the Wilds for some part of our Joining. He didn't seem pleased but I shrugged it off. We were here to face dangers after all, now weren't we?  
Jory, a knight from Redcliffe who had moved to Highever, on the other hand almost wet his pants when he realised that I was a mage. I was surrounded by cowards wasn't I? - biased cowards all along the line.

"No need to worry, Ser. I will be fighting on your side." I smiled at him and hoped that this would calm him down. The one frightened of mages, the other one frightened of the Wilds. Alistair found all that very amusing judging by his occasional snorts and chuckles. I was only waiting for his next joke and in fact, I didn't have to wait long.

"You know, what I wonder?" he asked while we were wandering towards the Grey Warden tent, Daveth and Jory multiple feet ahead of us.

"Hm?" uttered in response, my glance wandering over to Alistair who was right beside me. I was definitely not prepared for what was to come.

Mind the dramatic intonation: "How have they even come this far, those sissies, I wonder? They will faint like fair maidens in sight of their first darkspawn, don't you think? I imagine it clearly: sobbing, crying, falling at our feet, begging us to help them before passing out – slipping and falling graciously like pigs." What exactly caught me off guard more than the meaning of his words was his painfully repressed laughing and giggling that was so blatantly present in his way of speaking. Against my will, a snort escaped me and the corners of my mouth turned up into a not so slight but rather wide grin.

"Well, we have to make sure that the vile enemies go down before our fair maidens get a glimpse at them." I tried to joke but was perfectly aware of the fact that I was no natural jester as my companion was. I believe, I was far from being funny.

"Seriously? Don't you want to see them crawling and fainting before us? I bet it's quite a sight!"

"Bad boy." I scolded him like you would scold a child and it took some time for my snickering to cease. Alistair shrugged it off with another chuckle and a canny shimmer in his eyes. I was amused; Alistair had been able to lift my spirits and I was grateful for that. As much as he had been one of the worst encounters in this camp at first, he had turned out to be the best in the end so far.

On our way we were stopped by a coarse looking man, whose voice on the other hand was far from that, it was gentle and worried. He turned out to be the camp's kennel master and one of the mabari, intelligent and strong war hounds which I had - again - only known from books, was ill because he had swallowed darkspawn blood. Not healthy, I assumed. I was asked to muzzle him and I decided to give it a try out of sheer curiosity. I was prone to do risky things, just like I had always been. Win of bust was an attitude of mine that I couldn't help pursuing. On the whole it had paid off pretty well to this point. Luckily the dog did not object my presence. No, he showed me a great deal of respect instead, watching me warily with his intelligent eyes that were also speaking of pain. I was impressed and kneeled down with a nod, letting the dog smell at my hands before I gave him a few encouraging pats on the head and put a muzzle on its snout which had strong teeth that could bite off my hand quite easily, I was sure. However, he didn't even try to bite me and as thanks for that I stroked his back a few times and rose back to my feet.

Before we left, the man, who was beginning to treat the dog, asked me if I could look out for a particular healing flower in the Wilds and I agreed. Since Daveth was so sure that we would head there soon, why not?

Duncan was waiting by a large open fire for us, together with Daveth and Jory who looked more than just a bit nervous already.

"You found Alistair, did you? Good. I'll assume you are ready to begin preparations. Assuming, of course, that you're quite finished riling up mages, Alistair." Oh yes, he was. And as far as I could say from my own experience and the mage who had left Alistair so furiously, he had done a really great job, comprehensive victory when it came to insulting and degrading someone.

"What can I say? The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick he in the army." Alistair defended himself.

"Well, Chantry people are like this in general, you know? If they were our soldiers, we would soon be rid of the entire Chantry because wielding guilt doesn't solve one bit of our problems with darkspawn!" I tossed in a cutting comment that I wasn't able to bite back. Alistair scowled at me for that, probably taking offence because he had been one of the 'Chantry people' some time ago as well. Maybe this would provide a nice incentive for him to prove me wrong in his own case.

"She forced you to sass the mage, did she?" Duncan began to speak again, addressing the importance of the matter, not reacting to my comment, but not scolding me for it either. That made me assume that he thought I was right to some degree. "We cannot afford to antagonise anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us. We Grey Wardens need all the help we can get, keep that in mind for the future." Indeed. I hoped Alistair would take this advice to heart, now that it had been said so openly by his superior.

"I apologise, Duncan." he gave in, shooting me another accusing glance which I shrugged of with a devious grin towards him that was supposed to show him that I had been right. The notion that Alistair blushed at this and embarrassedly looked away confused me and I could feel the heat crawling into my own head because of that. I blinked in awe for a few times and looked back at Duncan, concentration on what he would have to say regarding the preparations for the ritual. Daveth and Jory didn't seem to have noticed a thing and even though Duncan had certainly noticed that something was off, he didn't let himself being lead astray.

"Now then, since you are all here, we can begin. You four will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to obtain three vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit. As for the second task: There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

"What kind of scrolls are these?" I inquired with keen interest. I had the habit of absorbing everything that was written down somewhere. It had proven to be a help in keeping my mind from rotting to death, in fact.

"Old treaties, if you're curious. Promises of support made by the Grey Wardens long ago. They were once considered only formalities. With so many having forgotten their commitments to us, I suspect it may be a good idea to have something to remind them with." Treaties? Well, nothing to gain much knowledge from then. Necessary nonetheless, as it seemed.

Duncan returned his attention to Alistair. "Watch over your charges, Alistair. Return quickly, and safely."

"We will." Alistair promised with a nod, ready to strike out.   
"Then may the Maker watch over your path. I will see you when you return. Good luck." With those words Duncan made his way into his tent and we made our way out into the Wilds, into battle.  
A misty swampland greeted us not far away from the gates. The light of the slowly setting sun made everything glimmer in a yellowish-green light that was mysteriously enthralling. I had never been in such an environment before. The air smelt of all sorts of plants and of something more distressing and disgusting alike: death and decay. The chilly temperature didn't help to make us feel comfortable either. The harsh wind tugged on my robes, blowing through their fabric. I couldn't recall when I had been this cold for the last time.

After we had taken out a pack of wolves a trail of dead soldiers was arising before our eyes, partly covered with high grass and moss. They had definitely not been killed by the wolves. We carefully moved around the dead bodies. Naturally, I avoided stepping onto any of them. The smell was enough to bear, I didn't want to hear the sound of squished flesh, breaking bones and rattling amour mingling together under my feet.

Nothing had ever prepared me for this, not even living in the gutter. Living in the tower had spoilt me instead for the last two decades, in all senses of the word. I wasn't used to hunger, dirty excrements or poverty any more, but had been about to perish from the impacts of captivity even though I had all material goods I could ever wish for. I realised that either way of living had been a punishment for things that hadn't been my fault, gutter or tower. The tower had been worse, however. What I was facing now was the same - punishment. Even if my head told me it wasn't, my heart told me it was. It was better and easier to endure when my anguish could contribute to the greater good of all though. Thus I needed to remain strong. I had wanted a meaning for my life and here I got it, there was no use in wallowing in self-pity. I perished those thoughts and moved on.

After a moment, a gravely wounded but living soldier was crawling up to us. At this horrid sight I was sure that neither Alistair nor I wanted to see any further person crawl before us any more. I kneeled down and cast a healing spell before Alistair bandaged him up. His wounds were severe, even with our treatment done. We offered him to bring him back to the camp, but he declined and carried himself back towards the camp alone instead so as not to hinder us from proceeding.

He had been attacked by darkspawn. I wondered if those beasts really looked like in those book illustrations. Probably not. I figured they had to look a lot more horrible. Well, I would see soon enough, I guess. After the man had told us, especially Jory was stricken by genuine fear once more. Well, there might have been more than only some truth in Alistair's joke from earlier, just that I didn't find it funny any longer. At least Alistair assured us that he was able to sense darkspawn and that some were nearby but not a whole horde. Daveth's remark left an acrid taste on my mind: "We might die, but we'll be warned about it first."

"Bloody marvellous…" I sighed and tried not to waste further thoughts on all possible ways of dying, in particular when I saw the strung up humans in front of my eyes.

I saw my first living darkspawn from afar and it should stay that way if it had been up to me to decide. I kept my distance, healing and strengthening my allies, weakening my enemies with a few hexes. Fortunately, Daveth and Jory did not faint but turned out to be decent fighters instead. When the first battle was over I walked up to the defeated creatures and indeed, these beings looked a lot worse than in those books. I shuddered and was glad that I hadn't to fight them face to face. Their long sharp fangs, growing out of those skulls with rotting skin all over it, were grinning at me even in death and I branched off to escape my vivid imagination how the beasts would look alive from such a close up distance. I was walking multiple feet behind the others now since I didn't intend to come into close contact with those monsters at all if I could stay away from them in some way. My three companions didn't notice, otherwise they would probably have objected my reckless behaviour. I didn't realise that staying behind was indeed a bad idea until it was too late. Greenhorn mistake of someone who had never fought against anything that attacked from the shadows and wasn't even truly aware of any of the dangers in the open wilderness in general.

I was attacked out of nowhere. A dagger stabbed into my back and I was forced to my knees at an instant, the weight of the growling creature forcing me down, so that my front was painfully pressing against the soft and moist ground, dirt mixing with the blood in my mouth. My bare hands were digging into the dirt, the mud creeping into my sleeves, leaving a cold dampness on my skin.

The survival instincts suddenly kicked in. I wasn't able to look at the attacker but the tainted breath and the smell of rotten and burned flesh alongside with those wild noises the creature made were enough to come to the conclusion that this was a darkspawn. Even if my situation was ridiculously grim, I was grateful that I didn't have to look at that monster.

"Halt!" I gargled after my comrades, only just capable of stunning my attacker's mind with a spell, so that it stopped in its movement of further stabs into my backside. Now I was the one crawling, and if I was unlucky fainting as well sooner or later, thank you very much. The others didn't turn back, they hadn't heard me. They were definitely busy with the track ahead of them, their wary eyes everything but not behind them. There was no chance of them spotting me at any time soon. But before I could treat my wounds, I needed the others' attention. I wouldn't make it without their help since my spell power was extremely limited under these unfortunate and nasty circumstances of being gravely injured. Moreover, the darkspawn assassin wouldn't be stunned forever and gladly proceed in its attempt to kill me until it succeeded. I rested on my elbows just barely and grabbed a small stone to throw it after the others, but they were already too far away. It was a vain attempt to gain their attention. I was in no state to make myself known through physical acts when I was already slumping down, my face about to kiss the earth one more time. I tried to reach Alistair's mind through magic and whispered a faint 'Help me… please…' That was all I could to. I heaved the unconscious darkspawn off of me and pulled the dagger out of my back with the tiny piece of strength left in me before I got ready to stand up only seconds before the monster was becoming conscious again. It was a desperate attempt to run away - when another darkspawn emerged from the darkness, burying its sharp fangs in my shoulder, so that I fell down again, hearing my nose break on a stone and a tooth crack. I screamed a gauche and stertorous scream, my vision fading when I heard a furious war cry above me. I was bleeding like a pig and I had to stop this somehow. But before I could even try to do something, the heavy mass upon me was pulled away, giving me room to breathe. I cast a weak restoration spell, sliding my hand over the bloody teeth marks to stop the blood loss, but it drained my strength until utter exhaustion and didn't make any difference. When my conscience returned to me, the sounds of the fight had ebbed away and I had been turned onto my back, panting spastically, coughing up blood.

"Dammit!" Alistair hissed and gritted his teeth while he was wrapping healing poultice around my bruised torso. Afterwards he put my nose into place again which made me groan in protest, but I knew that there had been no way around it. The bleeding of my wounds soon stopped, so I supposed that the bandages were magical enhanced. "You of all people with your thin robes had to stay behind! Don't you dare to do such a foolish thing again! From now on you will go where I can watch your back!" Alistair blustered and opened my mouth to force a health potion down my throat.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered weakly, all the blood mixed with the healing substance tasted awful.

"Oh, keep quiet! You'll need to spare your strength! I thought, my heart would stop beating when I heard your pleading voice out of the blue in my head! Like a ghost! I was already concentrating to locate the darkspawn before us and wasn't aware that there were some behind us attacking you! How could you stay so far behind anyway!? What were you thinking?" He groaned at his own question, noticing that he had told me to be quiet. "Don't answer, just try to stand, will you?" he bid me with a sigh, picking me up from the ground slinging one of my arms around his neck to support me. I felt giddy, hardly aware of having a body at all any more. It was numb, so numb.

"No use in keeping him upright..." he concluded when I was about to collapse again, so that he laid me down with my head in his lap, took the skin from his belt and brought it to my lips. He ordered me to rinse my mouth and have a drink of water. I looked up into his eyes that were looking down at me, after I had done what I had been told. I wanted to show him that he didn't need to worry since I was feeling relatively well again. The genuine concern I found in his eyes, however, struck me. Nevertheless, I dismissed it as some concern about losing a precious weapon, nothing more. No one had ever seen me beyond my use for them – probably not even Jowan. He had needed me for his escape and had gladly left me behind. Betrayal. I repressed the sudden urge to cry effectively and tried to think of something nicer. There had been this boy once when I was still a child – before my time in the tower. He had accepted me unconditionally as a friend even though he was a noble and I was an urchin. I could be of no use for him and still he had taken care of me, has shown me that there could be joy in life.

"Oh, I told you this whole thing would turn out bad!" Jory complained heatedly, interrupting the thoughts I had while I had been looking at Alistair, whose eyes had been locked with mine for the whole time as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jory was sounding as if he was about to wet his pants. Well, probably they were already wet. I wondered why I couldn't see his piss running out of under his armour already. Daveth didn't say a word, but rather watched our surroundings nervously while Ser Wet-My-Pants was bottling up three vials of the creatures' blood, hissing some incomprehensible words.

"Give me ten minutes and I will be able to move on." I muttered and closed my eyes. I was glad that Alistair's hands were resting at the sides of my head. His touch helped me to concentrate on channelling energies since it was soothing and not urging to hurry up like I might have expected. This made tapping the Fade a lot easier. After about the ten promised minutes later I sat up and made sure I could go on fighting even if the wounds would go on aching.

"I'm ready." I announced and rose to my feet with Alistair helping me up. He eventually let go of me, reluctantly at first and I could see that he wasn't sure if he should let me walk by myself. We had no choice. We had to complete our mission or die trying. And I was not inclined to mess it up again.

"Thank you. I'm fine now. And you're not nearly as bad as I thought in the beginning." I mumbled towards Alistair in a low voice, so that only he could hear it. I was rewarded with a kind smile and he moved on in the lead.

"Let's move on then!" he shouted and I was right behind him, relieved that the incident had ended relatively well. I did not want to repeat my latest experience with darkspawn rogues. After a few more groups we reached a wooden bridge. Our opponent, which was waiting for us like it was some kind of bait, was a darkspawn mage and thus one of the harder opponents. My eyes still on the mage I heard strange gnarling near us and made the air waver, searching for other minds than the ones of our group – and found them. I had become more attentive to the sounds around us and it paid off. There were two other sneaky darkspawn near who had been about to attack. Unfortunate for them that they didn't keep quiet, so I could interfere and blow their cover along with their minds.

Alistair's immediately took care of them, bashing his shield against their heads before he delivered killing blows. In the meantime I conjured a whole lot of my power to put a force field around the mage to play for time. I had only just been able to deflect its vicious spell with an arcane shield. I was glad that I had the chance to make up for my former thoughtlessness. When my spell subsided, we could give the mage a short shrift as we were finished with the others at that time. I panted heavily and the others had to finish off the archers behind the bridge without my help since I had to support myself on the bridge's banisters. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small lyrium potion that I had stolen back in the tower. It was the only one I had and it was time to use it now. If not now when else? Certainly not when we were all dead.

After a few more fights we arrived at the Warden archive Duncan had mentioned, but there were no scrolls in the broken cache. I couldn't find any, no matter how much I scrabbled in the debris. There was simply nothing there. "Nothing, not even remains of parchment." I uttered, giving up with a sigh. Somebody had been here before us and there was nothing we could do about it. So the three vials of darkspawn blood had to be sufficient for our return.  
"Well, well, what have we here?"

I frowned at the sudden appearance of that voice behind me and turned my head back over my shoulder. A woman a predatory grin all over her face was coming out of the upper ruins, her voice dripping with arrogance: "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

That was all we needed… I cleared my throat and stood up. "How is this your business what I am doing here and how are those your Wilds, huh? I am here because I have legitimate reasons. You have none. You are the intruder here, not I."

"Is that so? You seem so convinced, handsome lad. Quite interesting… I have watched your progress for some time. 'Were do they go,' I wondered, 'why are they here?'"  
My limbs hurt, I could hardly move. I writhed languidly, cold sweat running down my whole body, rough linen brushing over my skin.

Old treaties, joining the Grey Wardens, double death, drinking blood, fainting, alluring whispers, and an old god's roar. Slaughter, a tower, fire, further darkspawn, and infernal darkness.

My head fell to the side, my eyes opened and I saw a wooden door.

So, this all had been a dream.

But where was I? I felt that one of my hands was clasping a pendant that thumped against my skin and eradiated a gentle warmth that seemed to be totally in line with my body's.  
"What's this?" I whispered and suddenly remembered that this had been a token. A single name left my lips: "Alistair…" I remember his hand pressing the pendant in mine. I looked at it; it was filled with blood – the darkspawn blood I had drunk. It hadn't been a dream at all.  
"Yes, the suspicious, dim-witted one who was with you before has survived as well." A familiar voice informed me out of nowhere. "A most unfortunate occurrence." she added in a low murmur, but it was loud enough for me to hear. I turned my head and saw Morrigan, the woman and witch I had met in the Wilds. Her attitude hadn't changed at all.

"What happened? Where am I?" The pictures in my head were blurry and didn't seem to make much sense at all. They were only shreds of a whole story that I wasn't able to figure out yet.

"Back in the Wilds, of course. I have just bandaged your wounds again. You've been unconscious for two days. You don't remember Mother's rescue by any chance?" Mother's rescue? Ah, there had been this other witch, the old woman who had known it all. Visions, I presume.

I was regarding Morrigan, who was standing by now, with a look that showed I was brooding on something. Her gaze in return was patient and calm.

"I think I remember a lot…" Everything was slowly coming back into place. "…the last thing… darkspawn… overwhelming us…" I shook my head to shoo away the dizziness and sat up, a pained moan escaping my throat when I felt my broken ribs scrunch. Morrigan on the other hand didn't bother with the noises I was making. She had most likely decided that my wellbeing wasn't her business any more, now that I was up and about again.

"Mother managed to save you and your friend, though 'twas a close call. What is important is that you both live – in Mother's opinion at least. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend… he is not taking it well."

"Why did this happen?" I asked perplexedly, stretching my sore body and casting a spell to dull the pain. I could hardly believe what I had just heard.

"You may ask Mother as I do not know." was her dry answer when she crossed her arms before her chest, looking down on me as if she was something so much better than I. She seemed to be either very full of herself or very mistrustful – or both.

"Why did she save us then?" I probed further. It seemed inevitable that I had to worm it all out of her.

"I wonder that myself, but she tells me nothing. Perhaps you were the only ones she could reach. I would have rescued your king. A king would be worth a much higher ransom than you."

"Thanks a lot. That's… reassuring." I eyed her with raised eyebrows, shifting around in the bed while Morrigan was moving towards a cauldron over a fire.

"I'm only being practical." she responded shrugging. Yes, very practical… especially considering that she lived in the wilderness. But what did it matter now? I wasn't here to discuss such things with her. I still had to fathom in what kind of situation exactly I was in. What she had told me before was very short cut and I wanted a more elaborate version of it. There was silence again. Morrigan was occupied with a wooden spoon and I was suddenly ignored.

"So how did she manage to rescue us, exactly? What kind of magic did she use?" Oh, I could see that she was getting annoyed at all my questioning. Unlucky for her, I really had the intent to press every answer I could get out of her.

Thus, she began to sound as annoyed as she was. She didn't look at me any more, she concentrated on the stew bubbling over the fire. "She turned into a giant bird and plucked the two of you from atop the tower, one in each talon. If you do not believe that tale, then I suggest you ask Mother yourself. She may even tell you." Oh, I did believe this. I had heard of shapeshifters often enough, so her explanation was sufficient for me at the moment. I leant back into the pillow, watching the ceiling for a while whilst I was fidgeting around with the pendant.

"Are there any other survivors besides us?" I went on interrogating her, not caring if I got on her nerves. There were more important things right now than considering her mood, especially when it was unlikely that I would stay in this hut much longer, let alone having her as company.

"Only stragglers that are long gone. You would not want to see what is happening in that valley now." She made it short and tried to cut me off again, just that this time it wasn't her mother where I should go if I wanted to know more, no, she told me what I wanted and what not this time.

"I do. At least I want to know what you can tell me about it." I made myself clear. I was neither a child any more nor was I highly sensitive. Well, I might look like I was highly sensitive, but one better never judges a book by its cover. It could be fatal.

She finally answered me after a long pause of scrutinising me with her piercing gaze. Had I started a pissing contest, or what? "I had a good view of the battlefield, I really had. 'Tis a grisly scene. There are bodies everywhere, scattered around on the ground and darkspawn swarm them… feeding, I think. The also look for survivors and drag them back beneath the ground. I cannot say why."

That was enough I needed to know of the situation. So Alistair and I were alive and almost all others dead or somehow in captivity. These were no bright prospects before us. I really wished that Morrigan's mother could tell us how to proceed since I was clearly at a loss. A Blight but close to no Grey Wardens left. The old woman would certainly have ideas, she had to have since she must have rescued us for a reason. I, on the other hand, wasn't even sure if I was able to grasp the impact of the consequences which this event that lay behind us would have, to be honest. I was still in some state of strange apathy. I didn't know how to react on something like this – a defeat caused by treason that had happened in an event of which I was a part myself. I was used to books that described things, horrible things; nonetheless those things were distant – not affecting me as a person. I did have the qualms that it would be different this time. It would affect me and my life as much as the life of many other people in the world I lived in.

"Where is Alistair?" I asked with a sudden worry apparent in my voice.

"Well, he is alright and already outside, but he is also being distinctly childish, crying and all. His physical wounds, however, hadn't been as severe as yours." With those words said, I sat up, shoved away the blanket and put my feet onto the pelt in front of the bed.

I knew how Alistair felt. I had felt like this when Jowan had figuratively died for me. I couldn't so much relate to the other Grey Wardens since I had barely known them, but I had experienced a similar loss. Nevertheless, it was an auspicious trait of mine that I was good in repressing memories, so my heartache kept within a limit so far. I also reminded myself of the current events that were of greater importance. Onwards, not backwards.

"Well, 'tis time you speak with Mother, then be on your way. She's outside as well. I will just go on cooking, so don't mind me." I heard her sighing for the first time and there was a kindness to her voice that I wouldn't have expected at all.

"Thank you, Morrigan – for bandaging me up and for your patience that I've strained so much." I finally said. All I got from her was a bewildered glance and some embarrassed stuttering that made me wonder what had happened to this beautiful woman that she wasn't accustomed to small gestures of thanks. Should I blame her living in the Wilds for this? Or her upbringing? Then I realised that I was completely naked and put on my robes that were seated on the chest at the end of the bed. They had been neatly washed, the holes at the backside had been patched and they smelled fresh instead of reeking of blood, old sweat and death. I had almost forgotten how fresh attire smelt like and probably even forgotten how unpleasant dirty one could be. When I was finished with buckling up my brown leather boots, I stood up and grabbed the satchel. I had nothing more to take with me.

When I opened the door, the intense rays of the sun were causing me to screw up my eyes. After my sight had adjusted itself to the light, I could see Alistair standing by the pond in front of the hut, fully armoured and looking absentmindedly out in the wasteland, the reeds occasionally brushing along his body.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man." I heard the old woman's voice that made Alistair turn around instantly, his face distorted by grief and relief at the same time. "You… you're alive! I thought you were dead for sure." he trailed off with a face as if he would start crying again at any moment. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks wet. He was really taking it worse than even I had anticipated.

"I'm fine, I guess… I appreciate your concern, Alistair." I offered and laid my hand on his shoulder. My broken ribs and my limping leg spoke against my words, but it could have been worse.

"Sadly, we can't change what happened though." I added sadly, pulling him into a comforting hug.

"This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower." he whispered, leaning thankfully into the embrace.

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad." the woman reminded Alistair and I tilted my head.

"I didn't mean…" Alistair let out a defeated groan before he changed the subject, straightening himself so that I let go of him. "But what do we call you? You never told us your name."

"Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do." she explained, shrugging.

"_The_ Flemeth from the legends? Daveth was right- you're the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?" Alistair had pretty much asked what I would have asked as well.

"And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic and it has served you both well, has it not?"  
At this I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. A _bit_ of magic? I was already opening my mouth to interrupt, but decided against it in the last moment, otherwise she would have probably unsettled my fellow Grey Warden even more. There was really no need in making him nervous. I remembered it vividly that a nervous Alistair was particularly touchy. At the moment it was better that he didn't know what I knew. He had to deal with enough emotional trouble right now.

"Thank you. But why did you save us at all?" I tried to deflect the possibility that Alistair broached the subject again.

"Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with these darkspawn since nobody wants to see Ferelden overrun by them. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?" I could suddenly see where Morrigan had learnt to be so pragmatic.

"But we _were_ fighting darkspawn! The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?" Alistair barged in, waving his hands about, totally relentless, unsure where to put them in the end.

"Now _that_ is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmanoeuvre. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true treat." Flemeth proposed, regret and sorrow displaying themselves in her face. This seemed plausible to me, but that couldn't be all that was to it, could it?

"The archdemon." Alistair winded up the witch's thought out loud. She nodded.

"Will you help us fight this Blight, Flemeth?" This seemed a natural question and there really wasn't anything else I could ask her, especially not when I desperately hoped that she would agree. A powerful mage more on our side wouldn't hurt and a wise advisor couldn't hurt either.

"Me? I am just an old woman who lives in the Wilds. I know nothing of Blights and darkspawn." I was pretty sure that this wasn't quite the case, but if she didn't want to come along, fine. She had done a lot for us already.

I was glad that Alistair was the one to decided to put something forward then: "Well, whatever Loghain's insanity, he obviously thinks the darkspawn are a minor threat. We must warn everyone this isn't the case. The people need to be prepared."

"And who will believe you? Unless you think to convince Loghain of his mistake?" the witch inquired sarcastically.

"He just betrayed his own king! If Arl Eamon knew what he did at Ostagar, he would be the first to call for his execution!" I winced at his tone. He was just as riled up as he had been when I had been struck down by the darkspawn rogues. He was determined and so full of hate for Loghain, he downright screamed for revenge.

"Perhaps we could go to him, then. This seems like a good start to begin our mission." I tried to support Alistair's opinion on the matter because I thought that it would really be wise to solver inner tensions first - and in order to calm him down.

"I suppose. Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle. I know him. He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!" I was relieved that he was grasping the nettle, but wondered at the same time how it was possible that he knew the nobleman so well. Was he a noble himself?

"You have more at your disposal than you think." Flemeth interjected, a sinister shade prominent in her voice.

"Of course! The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us during the Blight!" Alistair exclaimed. I began to admire his blatant enthusiasm about getting something done. This would cover up my insecurities over all those things that had to do with what happened in the outside world and that I had barely experienced in my own life. I sneezed when a chilly wind started to dance around my nose. I definitely had to get used to the outside climate – and I needed a warm cloak.

"I may be old but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else… this sounds like an army to me." the witch concluded contentedly.

"So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and the other places and… build an army?" My comrade sounded as if he wasn't able to believe this right away, just as I wasn't. He even treaded the deep brown soil nervously with his feet, so that his armour rattled quite distinctly and did a great account on emphasizing our frame of mind.

"I doubt it will be as easy as that." I stated my concerns. Somebody had to do this, no matter how great the plan sounded. Even though I had no idea of the current Fereldan politics, it was clear to me that there had to be more obstacles than the Blight on our heels. Even without the Blight Ferelden could be no paradise.

Flemeth simply laughed at this. "And when is it ever?"

"Right now, we're the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, yes?" Alistair asked in distress.

"We are…" I concluded with a sigh. "The only ones left…" I facepalmed helplessly. The two of us to rescue Ferelden? What a fancy yet unsettling thought!

Alistair and I were already about to go when - as if intended - Morrigan was coming out of the hut. "Now, before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you." Flemeth said, looking at her daughter.

"The stew is bubbling, Mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve or none?"

"The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them."

That was a surprise. It was still to decide if a pleasant one or none. There were things speaking for and against her company.

"Such a shame-" Morrigan stalled suddenly. "What?" She obviously had a hard time pulling herself together now that she had realized what her mother had just said.

"You heard me, girl. The last time I looked, you had ears!" Flemeth joked and I suspect that Alistair didn't laugh only because he was also surprised – and a lot more upset about it than I was. His mouth was wide open, his brow furrowed, and ready to start complaining.

"Thank you, but you don't have to force her, you know?" I would certainly be pleased to have another mage along but not one who would throw around with her snarky remarks all the time. If we _didn't_ need something it was some kind of dirty running battle with her.

"Her magic will be useful. Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde." Well, on second thought her mother had made a good point here.

"Have I no say in this?" the woman in question grumbled.

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives." The old woman's voice didn't tolerate any dissent, so I nodded. "Very well, come on then. I hope, we'll get along." After all, we really did need help, didn't we?

"Not to… look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, she's an Apostate." Alistair finally voiced his own concerns. I let out a disappointed groan because it was a concern of his that I disliked, particularly in regard of myself. Flemeth was also not exactly pleased by this statement. Why this again? There were other concerns that were in order and those didn't have to do with magic.

"If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower." Flemeth snapped.

"Point taken." He gave in at once.

After some more words between Morrigan and her mother, she went to grab her things. I made use of the time she needed for this to exchange a few more words with her mother.  
"Do you have any advice for us before we leave?"

"About the darkspawn, you mean?"

"About anything, really. You've certainly seen a lot of this world, if in visions or in real."   
She cast me a knowing grin and began: "Then hear this: I laugh at a world full of stupid humans who ignore the Blight's evil and abandon their vigilance to chase mortal goals. Remember, it's up to _you_ to destroy the Blight. Pray not for someone else to destroy it. It will always nip at your heels."

"Very well, thank you, Flemeth." I bowed to her and looked towards the door, waiting for Morrigan to come out.

"What will you do, once we're gone?" Alistair asked the old woman curiously in the meantime. His taunting stare revealed that he had lost all faith in her good intentions since she had forced Morrigan upon us.

"Have a moment's of peace for once." She laughed looking into the direction where Morrigan was just coming out of the hut. Alistair let out an angry groan and frowned at both Morrigan and Flemeth.

"I hear the peace of the grave is eternal." Morrigan hissed with a mouth full of spite and a bundle with her thing in her hands, strolling towards us. Now these were some harsh words. Was this a mother daughter thing of which I didn't know?

Doubtlessly against his own will, Alistair let out a snort which earned him irritated glares from all people around him, including me.

"This is the thanks I get for feeding you and putting up with you for this long? Bah! May your child one day treat you the same." This was all the mother did to oppose her daughter.

"Feed me, she says. Without me, I swear she shall be caked in dirt and eating tree bark inside of a month." With those words spoken by Morrigan we hit the trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Feedback is most welcome. :)


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